Out & About #1008 | Pecan Pie Again, Chocolate Mousse Cake with Almond Coating + Pre-Packing Prospects

Nothing is forever.
I concluded that from a young age. It was a realization that simultaneously brought relief and reminded that life was fleeting, and opportunities time-sensitive.

In fact, I still struggle to grasp the dynamics of interpersonal relations. More dynamic than any technological revolution is the evolution of society. People change, and there's no telling what they may do (or not do) next. In that regard, people are unreliable. Commitments are changeable. Feelings are fickle.

Truthfully, it begs the question why we continue to trust, and perhapy why I live with such persitent naivety.

Pecan Pie

A second Pecan Pie was constructed within thirty-six hours of the last one. The reasoning was simple: I had barely consumed more than 2.5 slices of the first pie. In addition, two "insurance" pie crust discs were readily available in the fridge; this would be my last opportunity to use them within their 48-hour freshness window.

One of two discs would be removed from the fridge and set on the counter, slowly warming to room temperature. A near-identical process would follow, though a mishap with the vanilla-apple cider vinegar-tequila mix would prompt an additional dose of vanilla and apple cider vinegar to compensate for the spill. I had also added the eggs too soon into the scorched syrup mixture, causing one to partially scramble. After vigorous mixing though, this blunder was not noticeable whatsoever in the final product.

This time, the pie was allowed to cool completely before cutting, ensuring a perfectly flaky, crisp underside.

Chocolate Mousse Cake with Almond Coating

In preparation for my coworker's birthday, I found myself debating between a Tiramisu and Dulce de leche. She had named those two varieties as her top choices, but I was keen on neither. Instead, I ultimately opted for a layered Chocolate Mousse Cake - a 6" round for a small celebration.​

​i) Sponge Cake

Adapted from Sunday Baking

• 2 egg yolks
• 12 g honey
• 2 egg whites
• 35 g granulated sugar
• 35 g cake flour (or 13 g cocao powder + 22 g cake flour for chocolate)
• 12 g canola oil

Bake at 365-370 F for 7-8 mins.

​Two sponge sheets would form the internal layers: one vanilla and one chocolate.
The recipe would be derived from Sunday Baking, of course. In place of matcha, additional cake flour and/or cocoa powder would be used to achieve a total flour quantity of 35 g.

The first sheet emerged flawless: airy, uniform, and embracing with a light sweetness. The latter chocolate sheet had seen contamination of its egg whites, hindering the formation of meringue. No matter the amount of lemon juice or cream of tartar added, the batter felt flat. 2 g of baking powder were sifted into the mixture along with 13 g of cocoa powder and 22 g of cake flour, though this inclusion did not assist in restoring volume whatsoever.

​ii) Chocolate Mousse

Adapted from Sunday Baking

• 186 g milk, hot
• 6 g gelatin
• 270 g chocolate couverture
• 400 g heavy cream

Sunday's Nutty Hazelnut & Milk Chocolate Mousse Recipe would be summoned to form the mousse filling. The formula was essentially doubled as a conservative estimate to fill the ring moulds. In hindsight, increasing the amounts by 30% would have likely sufficed. My rings would ultimately be filled to an excess, with the chocolate mousse towering over the rim.

iii) Chocolate Ganache

In review of the less-than-smooth surfaces of each cake, I debated swapping a smooth chocolate ganache for a Ferrero Rocher-style topping. The choice would serve contribute texture while camouflaging amateurism.
Prior to the coating, however, I would proceed with utilizing the rest of my heavy cream container. Just 64 g remained; when mixed with chocolate couverture in a 1:1 ratio, the amount provided just enough to adorn the surfaces each cake, but not enough to cascade down the sides. Surprisingly, it masked the irregular surfaces better than expected.

iv) Chocolate Hazelnut Coating

Nevertheless, the Ferrero-inspired coating would be assembled for the finishing touch.

Adapted from Sunday Baking

• 300 g → 274 g chocolate couverture
• 50 g → 45 g canola oil
• 83 g → 78 g almonds, toasted and chopped

​Hazelnuts would have assumed my first pick, but I wasn't particularly keen on opening a new bag with a partially depleted bag of almonds on hand. Moreover, Sunday had used almonds in her own recipe.

The almonds were first toasted, then chopped into fragments measuring no more than 0.5 cm in width. Though a food processor would have facilitated the step, I persisted with manual labour as to lower the risk of blitzing the almonds to dust. The pieces would then further be sieved to remove those too fine for mixing into chocolate.

Sunday's recipe for individual mousse cakes had been roughly scaled up in hopes of achieving enough glaze for three 6-inch rounds. The ingredient amounts above yielded enough for two layers of glaze, plus excess that could be stored chilled and consumed as a chocolate bar.

​A thorough coating plus a hidden layer of ganache elevated the cakes with impressive textural contrast. The Ferrero-style glaze was seemingly straightforward, yet graced the cake with a majestic crunch reminiscent of Nestle's Drumsticks. It shattered readily upon contact with sharp edges, making for a splendid, crunchy bite amidst poor visuals. Thinner layers may not have peeled away as easily, though the its crunch factor would be preserved.

Generally speaking, I hadn't expected anything amazing to emerge from the fridge. Creation of the cake spanned three days in total: mostly refrigeration time and up to two hours of active work.

On the first day of sampling, the mousse was a tad dry - rich and rigid as opposed to silky and sublime. I even found myself wondering whether I ought to have reduced the amount of mousse, such that each layer would be roughly the same thickness.

​After transferring the cake to a plastic container, moisture levels normalized through osmosis, eventually resulting in uniformly moist cake with velvety, aromatic layers of mousse tinged with hints of coffee (espresso + simple syrup). The cake was delicious after all!

Apple Crumble Cake

​I hadn't intended to bake at all. In fact, I had even tucked away my spatula for packing. But the three Honeycrisp apples stared at me every time I drew near the fruit drawer. With half a dozen eggs remaining, Sunday Baking's Crumble Cake was adapted - tripled - for to deplete the stash of fresh fruit.

​The increased scale of the project allowed me to turn towards my stand mixer. Fitted with the whisk attachment, it incorporated all wet and dry ingredients with ease - monumental help considering the tackiness of the batter.
In hindsight, I ought to have summoned the paddle attachment next for the crumble portion of the cake. Kneading the mixture in a medium-sized bowl was one of my less informed decisions of the afternoon.

As with previous iterations of the recipe, one must constantly be reminded to "trust the process". Once emulsified, the batter looks somewhat, well, wrong. The air pockets nearly indicate excess gluten formation, while the thick consistency makes it incredibly difficult to spread, making one wonder whether it will rise into a cake-like creation at all.

Of course, all was fine. If I must be particular, the cavities in the cross-section varied a tad too drastically for my liking. The observation pointed to the batter not being homogeneous, which was exacerbated when mixed with baking powder and subject to high heat.
Baking for 375 F for 15 minutes then 350 F for another 60 minutes allowed for both the loaf pan and 9" x 13" pan to brown evenly. The topping had turned slightly darker on the larger tray, which was reasonable given its thinner proportion of batter. Nevertheless, the cake was positively scrumptious. Swapping 1/3 of the brown sugar for turbinado also elevated the cross-section with a subtle crunch.​

​My pre-packing ritual primarily spanned adulting activities: voting in the municipal election and ensuring that the amount of groceries/prepared food would last until (but not exceed) the date of my flight.

​More Thai is a solid choice for authentic Thai cuisine, yet not the kindest on the spice-intolerant.

​Their Khao Soi with Chicken was creamy and delectable, but quickly enveloped my throat in flames and threatened breakouts on my complexion. Pad Kra Pao was the perfect mild alternative to pad thai, boasting a generous amount of beef and a crispy fried egg over tacky steamed rice. Naturally, I constructed my own Thai Tea to pair alongside the meal.

​With half of the team was away in London for training purposes, the team meeting was cancelled and my in-office presence would be reduced to one day, strictly for the purposes of finalizing any outstanding assignments before the influx of June vacations.

​Lunchtime was spent running errands. My coworker and I strolled through Dollarama, Metro, and Loblaws - him accompanying me on my search for a suitable birthday cake topper and silicon spatula to bring along on vacation.

In sampling Yuki Hotaru, I discovered the staggering difference in profile between Junmai and non-Junmai sakes. Just a few sips in, the overwhelming stench of distilled alcohol filled the surroundings. I simply couldn't continue consumption of the bottle. Unscrewing the bottle again a few days later confirmed my aversion towards the low-grade production. On the other hand, Sparkling Sake was absolutely fine - enjoyable even!

Whilst cleaning, I chanced across some very well-preserved receipts. One dated back to 1995, to the days of pre-HST in Ontario. The other noted the price of Ham in 2002 to be $3.89/kg. Inflation is truly a beast.

As the day of departure drew near, the fridge was gradually vacated. Perishable items, such as ingredients, were handed over to my browsing partner; cooked items, such as five-day-old rice and blanched choy sum, were either sent to the organics bin or portioned and frozen.

​Faced with an almost-empty fridge, my last supper comprised of short-grain rice, blanched gai lan, an IKEA Vegetable Medallion and meatballs, and dessert of mini red bean taiyaki to finish. A single slice of Apple Crumble Cake and the remaining quantity of Pineapple Toromelt mixed with a can of Perrier, to make it bearable.

​And, with that, a semisweet farewell was bid to Larry and Mr. Buttons.